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Someone had buried bodies in the woods of my family property.
I felt like I probably should have been more concerned with that than I was. Worried about the victims, about their families.
But what could I do?
If I went to the police, my name would pop up somewhere. I could be traced.
I couldn’t risk that.
No matter how selfish that was.
Selfishness was how I was going to keep surviving.
I refused to feel guilty for that.
Maybe, when all this was done, I could call in an anonymous tip. Until that day, there was no use in feeling bad about it.
I spent the rest of the day messing around with an ax, trying to figure out how to swing it properly, even though objectively, I knew I had more than enough time to stock up on firewood if there was a chance of me having to continue staying here through the winter.
I hoped that wasn’t the case.
But I had to be smart and prepared for any outcome.
It wasn’t just my own life I had to think about now, I realized as Storm walked over after chasing the shadows on the ground caused by the birds flitting around overhead, and rested his head on my thigh.
“We’ll figure it out, right, bud?” I asked, running my finger through his hair.
I’d brought him to the pet store that had a bathing station, which saved me from having to figure out how to give him a wash that wasn’t completely frigid.
I’d been half-tempted to climb in that tub myself.
“You ready for some dinner?” I asked as I unhooked him from the lead, and made my way inside with him as my shadow.
It was a quiet evening. Eating dinner, taking a walk close to the cabin, then curling up with a low fire going, Storm chewing on a teething toy, and me reading a book by lamplight.
If this was the only future I had to look forward to for a while, I could be okay with that.
Especially as Storm climbed up in bed with me, snuggling up, and drifting off to a dream-filled sleep, full of little leg twitches and quiet barks. Then some epic snoring.
Eventually, he quieted down, and I drifted off to sleep as well.
Only to be woken by Storm’s whimpers and scratches at the back door.
“Ugh,” I grumbled, guessing I’d maybe only been asleep for half an hour at that point. But I didn’t want to be cleaning up a mess in the dark, either, if he actually had to go. “I’m coming,” I said, sliding off of the bed, and barely managing to remember to slip my feet into my slides before reaching for his leash.
I got the leash attached, despite his squirming and whimpering.
It wasn’t until I threw open the door that I became immediately suspicious, wondering if maybe he’d heard some rustling outside.
A bear? Were bears out yet?
Or, somehow worse yet, considering I had no good way to bathe him, a skunk?
“Buddy, easy,” I pleaded as he bolted forward, threatening to pull my arm clear out of my socket as I struggled to keep up. “What’s the matter?” I asked when he didn’t immediately squat or lift a leg. Apparently, he hadn’t made his mind up on what kind of boy dog he was yet when it came to positional preference.
“He’s got good instincts,” a voice answered, making my blood freeze in my veins as my stomach did a flip before sinking to my feet.
Because… no.
